Reference Material
by Trinity Everett
Summary: "Talk to me about polar coordinates, Rick. Not National Lampoon's Polar Vacation." - Castle is appalled by Kate Beckett's lack of movie knowledge. College AU, Caskett.


This was previously posted as part of my oneshot collection As the Story Goes, but since a single prompt has spawned a growing series of its own, I'm going to be posting all Reference Material-verse ficlets separately. If you've read these stories already, thank you, and I hope you like them this time around. If you're reading for the first time, thank you as well. I hope you enjoy!

**itskatianicole prompted: c/b meet in college & castle is appalled by beckett's lack of movie knowledge so he makes her watch his list of greatest movies. Friends first, ends with more :)**

**Reference Material  
**_**A Caskett AU**_

* * *

"You're kidding me."

Her glare doesn't seem to stop the incredulity from washing over her companion's face, nor does it make him think twice about actually speaking his mind. Why had she invited him to study with her?

"Kidding you about what?" She really needs to go back to her book, but every time she tries, Rick asks her another stupid trivia question.

How much movie trivia does this boy know? No wonder he sucks at calculus; there's no room for anything else in his brain.

"You really don't know that one either?"

Dropping her pencil, Kate Beckett sighs. "I don't watch a lot of comedy, okay?"

Rick side eyes her. "Apparently you don't watch a lot of anything. That's shameful, Beckett."

She manages not to pull a muscle from rolling her eyes, though it's touch and go for a second. "What's shameful is that I'm talking to you," she drawls. "Can you just study?"

"That's boring. I'd rather talk to you."

He's sweet, this boy, but right now he's going to drive her insane.

"Talk to me about polar coordinates, Rick. Not National Lampoon's Polar Vacation."

He laughs, his deep blue eyes crinkling adorably. "Oh, you'll learn, Kate. You'll learn."

Not if she wrings his neck first.

She must say it aloud, because he laughs again, scooting closer and grabbing her notebook. Her heart thuds heavily in her chest, just from the quick brush of their shoulders, but she swallows hard and tamps it down.

"Stop, Rick. I'm studying."

"And I am, too. I'm just borrowing your notes."

"What happened to yours?" she asks, shoving lightly at his chest with her shoulder. He has no concept of personal space and he smells so damn nice; it's completely distracting.

"Don't have any. I write during class."

Of course he does. He's always writing something.

"Fine," she sighs. "I'll share. But you have to shut up. No more movie quotes, no more mocking me because I do other things with my time. No talking about anything but calc. Capisce?"

His lips pop close to her ear. "Kay."

God help her.

He buys her a coffee a few hours later. Their first practice test results are abysmal and she's frustrated, but the moment he presses the warm container into her hand, she finds herself perking up. It's delicious and rich, exactly the way she likes her coffee.

"How'd you know?" she asks around the rim of the travel mug.

Rick grins. "I pay attention. I'm a lot like Matt Damon in –"

Her hand covers his mouth. "If you say _The Bourne Identity_, I will dump this on your head."

He grins again this time, tickling the edges of her palm with his lips. Her hand retreats quickly, letting her ignore the sparks that shoot up her arm.

"You've seen _The Bourne Identity_?"

Kate groans. "No, but I can understand a reference every once in a while. After all, the commercials are on constantly. But ah –" She holds up her hand. "That was not an invitation to start quoting at me again."

"Party pooper."

"Yes, that's exactly what I live for, Rick. Spoiling your fun. Not passing this stupid class, not getting out of school eventually, just sucking the joy out of your life."

He snickers into his own coffee. "Knew it."

Yeah, he looks so downtrodden. Not.

They sip in silence for a few moments before he scoots closer once more, fingers curling around his pencil to get started again. They'd bickered their way through the solutions to the first practice test, maybe the second one would be more productive.

Halfway through the second test, he speaks again.

"You know what we should do?"

"Stop talking and finish this test so we can go home before 3 am?"

He shakes his head. "Well, yes, but we should have a movie night. Since you're filmography challenged."

Gawking, Kate looks between her notes and her study partner. "A what?"

"A movie night. You, me, popcorn, a VCR, and a bunch of VHS tapes? _Maybe_ a DVD player if we need it. C'mon, it'll be fun, and you'll finally understand what the hell I'm talking about most of the time."

Licking her lips, she turns to him again. "I very much doubt that." There, flippant. She can do flippant.

But oh, he shouldn't be so damn good at making puppy eyes. "Doubt what? That you'll have fun?"

"No, that I'll ever understand what the hell you're talking about." She smirks, bumping him gently with her elbow. Hurting his feelings isn't her plan, even if he is ridiculous and all over the place.

"Never know if you don't try."

"Fine, Rick."

He pumps his fist eagerly. "It'll be great Kate."

"Uh huh, now can we study?"

Rick sighs, a dramatic and put-upon thing that only serves to remind her of the day he told her his mother is an actress. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, that's for sure. "Yes, Beckett, we can study."

There's no reason to like when he calls her _Beckett_, but she does. She's messed up.

He knows it, too, that's why he keeps it up. It's just too bad _Rodgers_ doesn't have the same ring to it.

* * *

In spite of their study challenges, they both manage to make it through the exam with only minor injuries to their pride. At least she doesn't feel like she failed, so she'll go ahead and call it a win. As long as she made the minimum grade she needs to pass, she's good.

Now she just has to survive movie night with him.

More importantly, she has to survive movie night without making a move on him.

For as much grief as she gives her study partner, she's kind of absurdly infatuated with him. He's smart – calculus possibly notwithstanding, they'll wait and see how he did to make a final judgment there – he's funny, he's _hot_, and he likes her back. At least she thinks he does; he hasn't dated anyone since she's known him, and women eye him everywhere they go. He's had plenty of opportunities, but he still sticks with her.

She just can't jump him at movie night. Not only is it clichéd, but she also can't let him think he won her over with his ridiculous movie trivia, otherwise she'll never, ever, hear the end of it. Besides, he didn't win her over with that.

No, he won her over because he meets her out in front of their class buildings with travel cups of coffee exactly the way she likes it. He won her over because he offers his hoodies when the AC in the math building is on full-blast and she's in danger of slipping into unconsciousness from the cold. And okay, fine, maybe she _does_ know more of his references and movie impressions than she lets on (because, come on, who _hasn't_ at least heard of _Psycho_?) but he lights up like a little kid when he thinks he's telling her something for the first time. He's been her friend for months, her verbal sparring partner as well as her study buddy – his words – and he _hasn't _been attempting to get into her pants.

_That's_ how he won her over without even trying.

Damn, she has it bad.

Maybe the bottle of wine is a bad idea, but it's movie night and she has self-control, so why not. Besides, it's better than drinking whatever crappy, cheap beer Rick's probably stocking in his apartment. So wine it is, hidden for the walk across campus. It's not the most comfortable transportation method, but she ignores the way the messenger bag strap tugs at her neck under the added weight of the bottle and her book.

Her study partner's book, to be precise. It's four years old, and the name on the front cover is not the name she knows him by, but there's no mistaking Rick Rodgers on the back. The bright eyes, the cocky, boyish grin. It's him. _Richard Castle_.

She'd found the book at the library that afternoon, gaping for about ten minutes before snatching it up and speeding out of there.

Ricky has some 'splainin' to do.

He grins when he opens the door to her twenty-eight minutes later. "You made it!"

"Of course I made it; I wasn't going to stand you up, as enticing as the idea of avoiding your movies might be. I even brought refreshments." She wiggles her eyebrows, nudging past him with a smirk. The lobby of his apartment is nice, way nicer than her dorm.

"You didn't need to do that. I have snacks."

"Not snacks," she singsongs, following him to the stairwell. Once they're climbing, she opens her bag to show him the label.

If he catches a glimpse of his book, he doesn't say anything. "Oh, good choice, Kate. Nice vintage, and perfect for our first feature this fine evening."

He's grandstanding a little, a lot. She's noticed he does this when he gets nervous. She almost hopes he's nervous. She's a little nervous, too.

"Mmm, and what's our first feature?"

He smiles, enigmatic even through his excitement. He opens his apartment door for her, gesturing inside. "You'll see."

What she sees is the stack of VHS tapes he's unearthed. Does he realize he's chosen an absurd number of movies to get through in just an evening?

"Aww, Ricky, if I'd known this was a sleepover, I would've brought a pillow and my jammies," she teases, looking over her shoulder at him.

He doesn't miss a beat. "That's okay, you can wear mine. I'll still let you braid my hair, too, even though you forgot the elastics."

Laughing, she waits until he closes the door behind them to hold out the wine bottle. "Pour me a glass?"

He does, hitting a button on the microwave before he fills his own glass.

His distraction gives her the opportunity to look around his place. Just like the lobby, it's nice. Book sales must be good.

"So uh," she interrupts his quiet humming. "How'd you manage to land this place?"

Rick smiles easily. "Really great timing. There was an opening just as I was readmitted to school. I snatched it up at a great rate and the rest is history."

Taking her glass from him, she settles on the couch. "It's really nice. But um, how old _are_ you, exactly?"

He gasps, lowering beside her. "Beckett, how uncouth. You never ask a girl her age."

Snorting into her wine, she leans against the arm of the couch. "Cute. I'm going to be twenty-three in November. Your turn."

"Twenty-five. I wanted to come back and finish my degree. Just to have it, you know?"

She smiles. "Yeah, I know what you mean." She does. She'd tried to quit school for good when her mother was hurt, but Johanna wouldn't let her. Instead, she'd taken a year off just to be with her family before transferring back to New York. "What made you decide not to finish the first time?"

Okay, so she's fishing a little bit. She can't help it. The guy wrote a _book_. Maybe even more than one, she just hasn't checked yet. So what is he doing back here instead of basking in the fortune and fame?

He looks almost bashful. "I uh, I had another job for a while and it made finishing school difficult."

"You mean this one?" Kate pulls the book out of her bag, waggling it carefully. His eyes widen.

"You know? How'd – have you read it?"

Her lips turn up. "Half of it. Got it this afternoon. You really wrote this?"

"Well," he hedges, almost wincing. "Yeah I did. And it went to the top of the best-seller list within six months of release, so it can't be too horrible, right?"

Oh god, he's worried about what she thinks, it's written all over his face. It's cute how shy he is about this.

"Eh, it's not bad," she teases, putting it aside in favor of lifting a socked foot and nudging him. "Sign it for me later, Mr. Best Seller; start the movie masterpiece you've been yammering about now."

That pulls him out of his funk and before she knows it, he's pressing play and offering her a bowl of candies and a bowl of popcorn. Variety, she likes it.

They drift toward each other throughout the evening. It starts out of necessity when she can't see through the glare from the setting sun and has to take the middle cushion instead of the end. As the night rolls on, and her belly ends up full of wine and the dinner he makes (he's actually a halfway decent cook, too, he can't be real) she leans into him for the sheer comfort and enjoyment of it. By the end of the third movie, she's practically nestled into him and he's wrapped his arm around her loosely.

"So what made you want to write?" she blurts as they sit in gentle silence, watching the credits roll. It's almost late enough that she should think about leaving, but she knows she'll be the one to put the next movie into the VCR.

Rick's fingers slip idly over her sleeve. "I guess I just… had a story to tell. A couple stories, really, and I got lucky when people wanted to read them."

Nodding thoughtfully, she squirms a bit, facing him earnestly. He doesn't talk about himself very often, at least not beyond how many movies he's seen.

"I spent most of the money I made on the first book… really quickly. The second one I was better about, more responsible, but the more I wrote, the more I worried what might happen if I screwed up and nothing after those two did well. So I decided to go back to school so I'd have something to fall back on."

Kate smiles, nodding again. "And then we met a little while later."

"And then we met and I was blown away by your profound lack of movie knowledge." He grins, cupping the curve of her shoulder. She likes his touch.

Heaving a sigh, she pulls away. He looks hurt for an instant, but the hearty stretch she completes has his eyes darkening instead. Warmth floods her cheeks. Okay, she's not imagining the desire; he's into her, too.

Clearing her throat brings his attention back to her eyes from… wherever it may have been. She quirks a grin at him, granting him permission to continue looking. "Okay, movie guru, what's next?"

She nods after receiving her orders, watching him duck into the kitchen. He makes them coffee while she uses the bathroom and stretches her legs a bit. The first sip tells her everything she needs to know: it's the same coffee he brings her nearly every day. He _makes_ her coffee nearly every day. And god, it's good.

"Do you two want to be alone?" Her study partner lifts an eyebrow, amused.

She swats at him, ignoring her own embarrassment. She really had made that noise over a cup of coffee, hadn't she? "Shut up, it's good. I can't believe you make this yourself. Wait, you're not hiding a barista under your sink, are you?"

He laughs. "No, no barista hostages." He eyes her fondly, sipping from his own mug. "I'm glad you like it, Kate."

They settle together again, this time her head lands on his shoulder without any prompting.

She makes it halfway through the movie before her courage gets the better of her.

"After this one's over," she murmurs, lifting her eyes to his. "I'd like to take you up on your offer."

The slope of his jaw beckons to her, begging her to touch her lips to his stubble. She does, feeling him inhale, feeling his fingers fumble on her arm in surprise.

"My offer?"

"Mhmm, the PJs?" She presses another kiss to his chin, letting him know it wasn't a fluke or a slip. His late five o'clock shadow scrapes her lips delightfully. "If the offer is still open, of course."

"I think," he croaks, fingers skimming down her sleeve to flutter around her wrist. "I think I can accommodate that."

"Good." Kate tugs her lip between her teeth as their eyes meet. Sitting up, her hand lands on his shoulder, and she uses him for balance to swing a leg across his body and settle in his lap. Her nose brushes his, fingers slipping into his hair to massage his surprise away as her lips work over his.

Kissing him goes against the rules she made for herself on her way over, but fuck it. She likes him. She wants him. Movie trivia, sweet gestures, and all.

He kisses back, holding her sides in his big hands. His touch is reverent, deliberate, and she craves more of it.

"In that case," she breathes, tugging on his lip gently. Her tongue flits over every curve and dent in his flesh. "I'll even braid your hair, _Castle_."

Rick grins against her mouth, chuffing a laugh before pulling her in and making her breathless.

Her rules were made to be broken, really.

* * *

_Other stories in this universe (in chronological order):_

_Late Night Study Break  
__Reference Material  
TGIF  
A Persuasive Argument  
Make it So Easy  
__summa cum laude  
__Always Right_

_and more tagfics and drabbles, which can be found on my tumblr at bunysliper dot tumblr slash reference - material!_


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